


Constellations

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [47]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 06:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Just because they're old men now doesn't mean they can't still have sex.





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> Also for the prompt: "constellations"

Harry in the very early morning is probably Merlin’s favourite version of his partner – not that he has a favourite version. Harry’s not mouthy like this, for one, and he’s pleasantly lax in the embrace of sleep, the weight of his years and experience falling away and smoothing the frown lines he likes to poke at in the mirror. It’s sweet, seeing him like this, completely relaxed.

And Merlin really does mean completely.

He stifles another groan, trying not to wake his partner as he sinks a little deeper inside him. It takes almost no effort; Harry’s body is perfectly accommodating like this, needing less prep than during his waking hours, although the fact that they had sex the night before is also a big help in that, Harry still open from the thick dildo Merlin teased him with for over an hour before he finally allowed him to come.

He keeps his thrusts gentle and shallow, more of a grind than a proper fucking. When Harry is awake, they’re usually much rougher, Harry goading Merlin into sharper, faster snaps of his hips, always so impatient for more. But Harry isn’t awake now, and Merlin can set his own pace, leisurely fucking his partner in soft, satisfying little pushes that keep him deep, buried almost completely in Harry’s warmth.

Harry moans softly in his sleep as Merlin’s angle shifts slightly, nudging him against Harry’s prostate. Harry’s not immune to the sensation, but he’s not even half hard, his cock twitching with interest but not making more of an effort than that. They’re not exactly young men anymore, and to Harry’s endless irritation that tends to limit the amount of times they can have sex in a day.

It’s alright. They make do in other ways, and Merlin has found there are plenty of options to distract Harry from the frustrations of his aging body.

 He’s beautiful. Merlin will never think otherwise, will never think the wrinkles and the grey hair and the age spots starting to dot at his hands and shoulders make him any less gorgeous than the day Merlin fell in love with him, over four decades ago, and he will tell Harry that every chance he gets, even at the risk of stroking Harry’s overinflated ego – surprisingly large for a man with so many insecurities – because Harry deserves to know just how stunning he’ll always look to Merlin. How much Merlin will always love him.

He’s close, the pressure building up pleasantly in his groin as he not so much races but meanders casually to the edge, so the fall over it is not an overwhelming burst but a gentle wave of pleasure that courses through his body as he comes, filling Harry up, pulsing deeply inside his body. He waits a minute, savouring the moment because Harry always squirms through this part when he’s awake, trying to get more out of Merlin, trying to drag it out. This way, he can enjoy it without needing to prolong it.

He carefully pulls out, his come starting to leak as his soft cock slips from Harry’s hole. He pushes it back in with one finger, then sucks the digit into his mouth absentmindedly. He settles back next to Harry, who’s hardly budged, save to turn over fully onto his stomach. Merlin leans over him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, his tongue darting out to lick at the darkening spots on Harry’s skin, tracing constellations across flesh catching up with the age of the stars. Harry will be one of those stories someday, he thinks. Look up at the sky, and that little cluster over there is Galahad, the knight who saved the world so many times.

Of course, only Merlin will ever know. Merlin, and Eggsy’s family, and Roxy and hers. Eggsy will point up at the sky and tell Daisy’s children, “That’s the man who saved me. Who saved all of us.” Olivia will hold her and Roxy’s daughter close and whisper, “Look. That one there is your grandfather.” It’s a fanciful notion, but Merlin thinks he’s allowed a few of those at his age.

“I can hear you thinking,” Harry grumbles against the pillow, and Merlin chuckles against his skin. “The whirring of your brain woke me up.”

“You sure that’s what it was?” Merlin teases. He watches Harry clench instinctually and then sigh in pleasure.

“Lovely,” he murmurs, without a hint of sarcasm.

Merlin nips gently at his shoulder, “Go back to sleep, Harry.”

Harry make a sound against the pillow that might be agreement, but really just sounds like “mmph.” He fumbles back behind himself until he catches Merlin’s hand, then draws it over him so Merlin can wrap him up properly.

Merlin presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

“Go back to sleep,” Harry throws his own words back at him, turning his face away from Merlin, but Merlin can still see the flush high on Harry’s cheeks. He smiles and kisses him again. Then he gets comfortable, curling around Harry and closing his eyes.

They’re ordinary moments, these are, but Merlin cherishes each and every one.


End file.
